Live Life The Way It Was Meant To Live
by SoupLicker
Summary: Two best friends wake up on a Saturday morning... to find out it was a Saturday morning from hell. How will they survive? Read and find out. Once again, I really don't care if you review. Rated M for a reason. Will lead to L4D2 if you keep reading.


Well, here's another story for you. The plot bunnies are going crazy and it seems they won't stop until they've gotten what they want. I guess it's a good thing, though. It just means that I'll write more, and actually update a previous story sooner or later. Hopefully the first, but you never know when trouble will arise.

Plus, basketball has started, and musical will be starting soon as well, so my time will be quite short when everything starts. Plus, I keep getting sick and I keep getting more and more behind in school.

Let's get started shall we before I give my life story, eh?

Disclaimer: Oh, I don't own Left 4 Dead. I mean, I've bought the game, but it has been patented by Valve, and probably will remain that way for quite a while.

First Chapter: Mornings

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God, he hated alarms. If only he could rest for that extra five minutes he wanted, though he knew the consequences would not be very pleasant. So, Thomas trudged out of bed, and into the bathroom to get ready. He had showered the night before, so he wouldn't have to in the morning. How much he hated mornings. Alarms and mornings didn't sit well with him.

So, Thomas grabbed the bottle of mouthwash, and swished some in his mouth and spat it out. Minty freshness had never been his thing. Afterward, he splashed some water in his face to get the sleep out of his eyes.

While drying his face off, he noticed how quiet the apartment complex he lived in was. Normally, everyone would be rushing off to work or school, their footsteps creaking against the old wooden floors. He ran his hands through his short dark-brown hair, to straighten it out. Plus, he needed to shave.

He was just about to grab the doorknob to leave for morning classes, when his thought process expanded. It was Saturday.

"Damnit." He grunted out. He walked back into his small apartment, and sat in his recliner. He grabbed the remote to his television, and flipped through some channels. Thomas hoped there was some good football games on just so his boredom wouldn't consume him. When he found the game he wanted, he sat back and relaxed. As the quarterback shuffled back for the pass, he was tackled. Normally it wouldn't have been a big deal, but when he caught sight of the man that tackled him, he realized a few things…

He didn't play for the opposing team. At first, Thomas just thought that it was just a fan wanting the attention drawn to him. But upon closer look, he realized it wasn't just a man. This guy's skin was grey, and moldy (only where it could be seen). He wore a dark-blue sweatshirt, with the hood up, and khaki shorts that had duck-tape around the thighs.

The quarterback lie on his back, while the man straddling him was at his stomach. The man on top began to rip the player's pads to shreds… and began to rip HIM to pieces as well.

Thomas just sat there, wide eyed.

"What the hell?!?" He pondered aloud. He flipped the channels back and forth to see if he had seen what he thought he had. After flipping back to that channel for the sixth time, he realized it was completely real.

He automatically grabbed his phone, and pressed one on speed dial.

_Ring… ring… ring… _"Hello?" a voice answered on the other line.

"Cliff, this is Thomas. You need to listen to me right now, go to channel 34 on T.V., right now." Thomas ordered.

"Alright… c'mon, you know I don't like football." Cliff whined.

"No, no. Look at that guy that's on top of the quarter back." He barked back. Why was he so edgy all of a sudden?

Cliff didn't reply right away, which worried Thomas a little.

"Cliff, you still there?" Thomas asked.

"Jesus H. Christ! What the hell is that?"

"I don't know, I thought he was just a fan at first, but he ripped that guy to shreds. Something's not right about him. I mean, look at his skin."

"Dude, get over here now!" He ordered. Apparently, Thomas wasn't the only one on edge at the moment.

"Alright. Be there in a sec." With that, he hung up and headed to his door again. This morning wasn't going the way he thought it would. Did he mention how much he hated mornings?

As he turned the knob, a set of footsteps ran down the hallway outside his door. As they ran by, he heard them. The grunts they made… weren't human. He backed away from his door again, realizing he didn't have any kind of protection whatsoever. That, and he hadn't put on any clothes yet.

He ran into his bedroom, and dug into his dresser. He pulled out a dark-crimson shirt and a red zip up jacket to go over. Then he grabbed a pair of black sweatpants, and his black sneakers. As he shut the last drawer of his dresser, he opened his closet. Inside were some more of his clothes, but that wasn't what he was looking for.

After digging through to the back, he grabbed a box, and a baseball bat. Thomas sat the box down on his bed, along with the bat, and opened it. Inside was a 9mm semi-automatic pistol. He really didn't want to use it, but he knew he couldn't be too careful. At least now he couldn't. He shoved it into the back of his pants, and stuffed a few rounds of ammo into his pockets.

When he left his room, there was one last thing he needed. He went through some drawers in his small kitchen, and found his flashlight. He put it in his pocket as well. Now he was ready, though he didn't know what for. And lastly, he switched the phone to vibrate. He didn't want to give away his position, obviously.

He slowly opened his door, listening for the slightest noise. When he heard nothing, he started walking down the dark hallway to the stairs. He lived on the second level of the complex, and Cliff lived on the fourth. It used to seem like the shortest trip in the world… but now, Thomas thought it might be the longest in his life. As he lurched forward, he could hear screams inside the rooms he passed, which would gurgle down into nothingness. Thomas sure hoped it wasn't in pain. No, he sure hoped it wasn't in realization… the realization of the end of your life.

Chills ran up and down his spine with every step. What was going on? This only seemed like something that would happen in the video games he played. When he reached the door to the stairs, he breathed a sigh of relief. 'One floor down' he thought.

He took the stairs two at a time, trying to be fast, yet silent. He reached the door to the third floor, but something caught his eye. When he turned to look, he regretted it the moment he did. There, slumped against the wall, was a man.

Well, you couldn't really tell if it was a man because it's face was completely mangled. The blood dripped down, and puddled beside him. Thomas just stood there, staring at the corpse of his former neighbor. When he came back from his daze, his stomach heaved, and emptied on the floor beside him.

"Holy… Shit!" he yelped in fear. He hoped he hadn't caught the attention of what had done this. He turned to face the door, hoping nothing was on the other side. Slowly and silently, he made his way for the door, turned the knob, and stepped into the third floor hallway.

The first word that came to mind from what he saw was 'chaos'. Walls had caved in, and bodies littered the floor. Thomas's stomach heaved again, but he kept it down. He practically jumped when gunfire went off on the floor above him. His phone vibrated, signaling that he just received a message. An unpleasant one, to be precise.

_From: Cliff_

_To: Thomas_

"_GET YOUR ASS UP HERE!"_

_End of message._

"Damn." He whispered. Why did this happen to him? Why couldn't this have been just like every other Saturday?

He rushed down the hall, all the while, he heard rustling from within the rooms. The gunfire must have awoken the neighbors… or at least what was left of them. With that in mind, he sprinted to the door to the stairs. Behind him he could hear a few grunts… followed by a blood-curdling scream. Thomas's head whipped around, while still running, and saw a woman… **(1)** A woman that was no longer human. Without hesitation, _it_ took off after him. More gunshots could be heard upstairs, and the woman was only getting closer. Thomas froze like a deer in the headlights. As it got closer, Thomas could make out its features. Her hair was brown, but wasn't her natural color. The blood had dried into her hair, mixing in with its previous black giving it a dull brown. Her clothes had been ripped to shreds, revealing grey, pasty skin. There was no white to her eyes, and were glazed over in a blood lust Thomas had never seen.

So, as the creature kept its pursuit, Thomas came to a conclusion. _Live or die?_

When it seemed the woman was upon him, he reared back and slammed his bat right into her temple… completely decapitating her.

With one swing, his life had turned over. Was this how his life would be now? That same conclusion repeating itself? _Live… or die?_

Several more gunshots went off, and another text message had arrived. He slipped open his phone.

_From: Cliff_

_To: Thomas_

"_JESUS CHRIST! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?"_

_End of message._

He opened the door to the stairs, and was taking three at a time, before he was even finished with his message. When he reached the door to the fourth floor, he slammed it open. Little did he know, there happened to be someone behind it…

… And it wasn't apart of his best-case scenario.

Behind the door was a mob of these people. Thomas let out a gasp, but it was unheard. All these people were focused on was Cliff. This left the advantage to Thomas. Quickly, he slung out his pistol, and let loose a hail of gunfire. Several bodies slumped over, but only a small portion of the group. As he reloaded, the things kept rushing forward, and gunfire was heard in the background as well. They didn't seem to know Thomas was right behind them, so he kept at it, dropping them one by one.

He quickly learned that accurate shots could take each one down without wasting ammo. The crowded hallway began flooding with motionless bodies, and movement began to cease entirely. After the last body hit the floor, Thomas received another text message. He would have answered it, but realized that they were only meters apart now.

"Cliff! I'm out in the hallway and I'm coming in! Don't shoot me!" Thomas called out, as he rushed forward to Cliff's room. Afterwards, he regretted yelling as loud as he had, as several groans could be heard from the floor below.

"Get your ass in here, then!" He hollered back. After climbing over the bodies he had just killed, he entered Cliff's apartment. Automatically, he shut the door behind him and locked it.

"There's not use in locking that." Cliff pointed out, earning a bemused look from Thomas. When Cliff pointed towards the door, he found a gaping hole in it.

"They just clawed there way in here." A new voice responded. Thomas turned to find two men that he knew also lived in the apartment complex, each adorning pistols. He couldn't recall their names, but the more help they had, the better.

Cliff slung his shotgun behind his back, and rubbed his temple. His glasses seemed to be lopsided, and his black bangs lay on his brow.

"Man, I totally thought you were a goner…" Cliff trailed off. Both of them were glad that wasn't the case.

"I think we should barricade the door." One of the guys suggested. Cliff nodded, and went to grab one end of his loveseat. Thomas grabbed the other, while the others watched their backs. They set it on its side, so it would cover the entire door.

"What the hell is going on?" Thomas thought aloud. Cliff just shrugged, and chuckled lightly.

"The hell if I know. Let's check the news." All four of them huddled around his television set. There was a man claiming that a virus was let loose into the biosphere by an unknown cause. He said that the virus was 100% fatal, and would leave the victim in a zombie-like state. He ordered everyone that was not affected by it to either stay in his or her home, or find safe houses that were all around town. The man would have continued his broadcast, but the creatures had abruptly entered the room, and ripping him to shreds. Shortly after, the channel lost connection.

Cliff ran through some of the channels, and all of them would show either footage, or give out warnings. After fifteen minutes, each news station had crashed. Cliff then shut off the television set, and faced the others. Silence seemed to take over the minds of the four. The only noise coming from the disgruntled moans of the undead.

"So…" Cliff trailed off again after a few minutes. "Anyone up for some takeout?" He asked jokingly, trying to make light of the situation. Any other day, Thomas would have laughed at his attempt to lighten the mood. But this wasn't just any other day. This was a Saturday morning from hell… and boy did he hate mornings.

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The first few days were quite mundane, but as the time wore on… things started getting a little dicey. Mutations of the previous hordes began to reveal themselves, and what intentions they held. Ask any of the four, and they'd tell you they weren't positive.

Large blobs of fat and pus filled beasts began appearing quite frequently. After several confrontations, the four soon realized what they were made for. There bile attracted its fellow undead, like a hobo on a bologna sandwich. If this method proved ineffective, its innards attracted them as well. And when shot, its innards exploded in a large diameter. Cliff had heard that they were called "boomers" and their traits were obvious. If one were to hear a gurgling noise, there was sure to be a boomer around.

The second most common mutation was given the name, "Hunter." They had the ability to leap large distances and had razor sharp claws. This gave them the element of surprise, and could easily incapacitate and kill any un-expecting wanderers.

The third, fourth and fifth mutations, nicknamed "Smoker", "Tank", and "Witch", were yet to make any appearance with the group, but Thomas knew that sooner or later they would. The rumors of the tank spiraled throughout the groups of survivors around Mercy City. Only a select few were able to view the monstrosity and live to tell its tale. And an even shorter few could claim they had taken down the beast. The same could be said about the witch. One could hear her crying at night, disguising herself as a grieving girl. When up close, one could see her long fingernails. If alerted to your presence, it would let out a terrifying scream, attack and not cease until you were either incapacitated or dead.

Jason and Tim **(2)**, the two that joined their parade of survivors, were deeply appreciated for stepping in and helping. But, it seemed that their bodies were not immune to the virus that floated through the air every day. And with dying wishes, they pleaded Thomas and Cliff to end their lives before the virus itself consumed them. At first, they were hesitant to end the guys' lives, but knew it was for the best. Who would want to wake up a monster? A zombie that had only one objective… the feasting of living flesh… why had life taken this turn for Thomas? He believed that he lived his life the best he could. Sure, there were times where he could have tried harder, but those were always lose-lose situations. What was he going to do?

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12 days after infection…

"Thomas! We can't stay here!" Cliff yelled as he emptied another round of his new found Uzi. All the while, Thomas let off a few shotgun shells, bedding into the skulls of the unending horde.

"I know that! But what are we gonna do?" Thomas yelled back. What could they do? It seemed that same conclusion from the beginning still played a role now. _Live or die?_ If they could decide the outcome themselves, they would, but fate wasn't in their hands now. It was in the increasing deficit of ammo. As the horde died down for what seemed the millionth time, the pair both let out sighs of relief.

"We can't keep going like this, there's no way we'll survive another week without ammo or food, for that matter." Cliff pointed out, yet Thomas already knew these things. It wasn't as if he could just stop thinking about how their water supply was running out and running out fast, or how the same could be said for food. And ammo was becoming less and less resourceful. Thank goodness Cliff had always loved hunting, and contained a large amount of ammo in his closet. Plus, there were National Guard zombies that held ammo on them, but still… it seemed time was running out.

"We could always move to the roof." Cliff suggested. Thomas had thought about that already, and knew that sooner or later that's where they would end up.

"Alright, I'll start packing up the ammo, and you grab all the food that won't rot. Plus, as much water as you can." With that said, the two got to work. It amazed Thomas how he was still walking, let alone alive. As he pulled out a duffel bag, he remembered the voice mail he got from his mother a few days ago.

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_He felt his phone vibrate as the horde continued to push forward the quartet. The bodies were piling up in the hallway outside Cliff's room, and the stench was nearly unbearable. As the horde died down, the four nodded to each other, commending each of their own ability to survive._

_Thomas pulled out his phone, and flipped it open. He wondered how he still got service, but he left the question alone for now. As the voice of an elderly woman began speaking on the through the other line, his heart began tugging at his will to survive._

"_Hello Thomas… my son Thomas… I don't know how much time I have left, so I'll try and make this quick… I'm so proud to call you my son. I know life hasn't been the easiest, but I know you will push through this. Always know in your heart that your family loved you and will always love you. If I don't see you again, just know that I'll always love you as well. And please, do not grieve over me just because my life has ended. I lived my life for you and your sister_ _and I don't regret anything. Which is what I wish for you. Please, live your life without any regret. Know that what has happened, happened for a reason. Like, the reason god gave me you two was because he wanted me happy.____(Screams are heard in the background and his mother began speaking quickly) Please, find and take care of your sister. And live life the way it was meant to live. I love you. Good bye…"_

_And those were the last words he ever heard from his mother._

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Unbeknownst to him, tears silently rolled down his cheek as he packed the ammo away. So many thoughts kept flowing through his mind. How could he live life, when all life was, was death. It seemed inevitable that death would soon appear on their doorstep. Unfortunately, death's approach was more swift than usual.

"AAAHHHH!!" Thomas heard a yell from the other room. He rushed in, to find Cliff covered in boomer bile, while the boomer stood at the doorway. He quickly took cover behind something and quickly let loose a round into the beast. Its innards exploded against the walls and made Thomas's stomach lurch. His gag reflex had increased dramatically the past week and a half, but the boomer bile/innards still got to him. Quickly, the groans of the horde were upon them, the same blood lust as before, but magnified tenfold. It seemed their meals had been decreasing lately.

"To the fire escape!" Thomas yelled, while holding off the horde. It seemed shotgun shells wouldn't be enough to hold them back, and pulled out a trusty pipe bomb. He quickly pulled the trigger, and threw it down the hallway while it let out loud 'beeps' attracting the undead. As the beeping sped up, it detonated, splashing blood across the walls. All the while, the building seemed to lurch from the explosion. Thomas automatically went to grab the duffel bag full of ammo, joining Cliff in their escape to the roof. When he arrived, he found Cliff kneeled down, painting large letters on the ground. Hopefully, anybody flying overhead would see the large S.O.S. on the roof.

"That could have been a hell of a lot worse." Cliff sighed.

There was a pause… a very long pause…

"Now what?" He asked.

"Now… we wait." Thomas responded. This idea didn't look so great now. Plus, now they didn't have an escape route, without running into more trouble.

"Well shit!" Cliff grumbled.

"You're so impatient. Not to mention loud." Thomas scolded. Cliff just pouted, and turned his nose to the side. He couldn't help but smile. How Cliff had remained himself during this mess was beyond him. Maybe that's what his mother had meant. Though, he still didn't know. His head ached, as another migraine hit him like a ton of bricks.

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Two weeks after infection. 2:30 am…

What the hell was happening? Their ammo, their food and water… their lives? It seemed like everything began to dwindle down to nothing. How could he protect his sister, if he couldn't protect himself first?

The hordes only increased in size and vigor as time went on. Boomers, Hunters and Smokers began to flock towards the pair. Every second, Thomas asked himself, 'How are we still alive?' If that wasn't enough, small sobs could be heard, signaling a witch was nearby. There still hadn't been sight of a tank, which was a very good thing for the two friends.

As the last zombie fell to the barrage of gunfire, the guys quickly reloaded their pistols. They quickly learned to save the ammo of their main weapons for the mutated zombies. Plus, who knew when a tank would show up.

They had set the remaining ammo on a table, along with a few first aid kits and several Molotov cocktails. The door to go down the stairs remained closed while they rested.

"I don't know how much more I can take of this." Cliff bit out. It seemed his positive nature had died down in order for his survival instincts to take control. It had almost become routine: wake up, don't die, then sleep.

"Me neither. I… I don't even know who I am any more." Thomas replied, his voice cracking upon his surprise revelation.

"How could you? You're Thomas."

"No, no. I mean, like who I am as a person. Our goals have changed negatively since this ordeal started.

"What are we going to do?" It seemed there was something left out of what Cliff had said.

"I don't know. I… I just don't know." Silence again. He wished it would last sometimes, just so he wouldn't have to consider his conclusion again. Then again, right now, there were a lot of things they wished for. They had wished for a bed, or some more food… or other people. They had each other, yes, but two people could not refill their social activity.

For once, their wish was granted.

Gunfire was heard in the distance. It ignited some spark of hope for the pair. At least they knew that they weren't alone, now. But, as the gunfire drew closer, their hopes began to rise even higher.

Out of nowhere, a helicopter passed by. This morning was actually turning out to be the best they had in a while.

Then an alarm went off.

"Uh-oh…" Cliff put out right before the groans of the horde arose. They had to help somehow. Swiftly they ran to the peek over the side of the building. What they saw was nowhere close to pleasant. Hundreds and hundreds of zombies began circling there pray, but that wasn't what their eyes were on.

They had finally met a tank. Both of their breaths had hitched in their throat. They couldn't move. The sight alone left them completely paralyzed. Gunfire woke them from their stupor. They turned to see a small group of survivors running down the alley. The tank bulldozed his way through the crowds of undead, and rushed down the alley way as well. Thomas ran over to the fire escape just in time to see a smoker ensnare one of them.

After all the time he and Cliff had waited, their prayers were finally coming true. So when the smoker exploded, it was only a shock to the others. All four turned to look at their leader's savior.

"GET YOUR ASSES UP HERE!" Cliff yelled, pumping his shotgun to release another shot from his spot on the roof. Thomas had lowered to the bottom platform of the fire escape with his Uzi, and provided covering fire for the newcomers.

As the four climbed up the ladder, the tank had finally turned the corner, and let out a roar to its prey. Its face was dwarfed by the size of its body. It sort of reminded him of the 'Incredible Hulk'. Thomas half expected it to yell, 'HULK SMASH!' Normally he would have chuckled, but he didn't have time for that. There was a tank trying to kill them.

With that thought in mind, he let loose round after round into the beast, yet it remained standing. Even two of the new group had fired at the beast, yet to no avail. The beast just kept charging forward, while the survivors tried to climb to safety. It would have been easier if the tank hadn't grabbed a hold of the fire escape and climbed up with them. While doing this, the escape bent downward, and the ladder to the floor was ripped off.

The female of the group yelled," I'll cover you!" to which, she pulled out two pistols and fired both rounds into the tank. Still nothing. It kept climbing, as did the survivors. It was a race to finish, both with different objectives in mind. As it kept climbing, the female was blocked off from the roof. The only way she would be able to make it would be to jump from her position to the roof above. The fire escape continued to sag downward, and with one final push, it gave way. The girl leapt with everything she had… but it wasn't enough.

Had Cliff not caught her hand before she fell **(3)**, they would have lost another survivor. As he hoisted the girl up, realization lit up on Thomas's face.

"Zoey?!?" He asked, hope rising even further now. She turned to face him, and her face held a shocked look as well.

"Oh my god! Thomas, it's you!" She yelled back. Both rushed forward and embraced the other in a tight hug. Cliff finally caught on as well.

"Waitwaitwait… this is your _sister_, _Zoey_?" Cliff asked as the two separated, and Thomas nodded fervently.

"… She's hot." Cliff's opinion made Zoey blush while Thomas scowled.

"Jesus Christ, man. Can't you hold your hormones in for five minutes?" Thomas growled, to which Cliff automatically shrunk into himself.

"I can't help but tell the truth?" Zoey blushed even deeper, and Thomas started hounding on him.

The other three hadn't noticed the reunion yet, having just realized how close to death they had come. As Thomas told Zoey his and Cliff's tale, the black man let out a whoop.

"Oh man! We made it! I can't believe we made it!" The black man yelled.

"We only crossed the street, boy. Celebrate when we make it out of the city." The old man scolded. He took a puff of his cigarette, and blew out some smoke.

Cliff had been listening in," Well at least you guys are still alive." He put out.

Zoey turned to face her group. "Guys, this is my brother, Thomas and his best friend… Cliff, right?" He nodded. "Thomas and Cliff, this is Bill, Louis, and Francis." She announced, pointing her finger to each as she said their names. **(4)**

"Yo!" Cliff bellowed. Bill snorted, Louis smiled and waved, and Francis just scowled.

"Who are you, Sylvester Stallone?" Francis replied bluntly.

"What's your problem? Those leather pants too tight for you?" Cliff put back. Francis looked like steam should be coming out of his ears. The group chuckled as the two bickered back and forth. It eased some of the stress that had built up in the past few minutes. But, before the argument could be brought to fists, the helicopter from before flew overhead, loudspeaker blaring.

"**I can evacuate the six of you immediately. I'm heading to Mercy Hospital. That is where the evacuation point is. Call me in when you are ready." **With that said, it turned around and flew in the direction of the hospital.

Bill automatically started giving orders. He seemed to be the leader of the group, and since he seemed to be decked in military garb, Thomas didn't mind following his orders.

"Alright, let's get moving. There's a subway station down the block. It's the fastest way there." Bill stated. There was a round of nods.

"LET'S GO KICK SOME ASS!" Cliff hollered.

Thomas let out a grunt.

"What's wrong?" Zoey asked.

"I hate mornings." And they took off, down into Cliff and Thomas's former apartments. They were in for one hell of a ride.

End of chapter 1.

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1: This isn't a witch. Witches hadn't mutated yet, so they are inexistent.

2: Names of two of my best friends (and one of those is actually my name too). They both love Left 4 Dead and Left 4 Dead 2 (which I don't have yet)-: )

3: Cliffhanger! XD (pun intended)

4: I didn't explain who the survivors were, because I figure you all will know already. If not, just wiki L4D.

A/N: That was different. I've never really had any inspiration to write a Left 4 Dead fic. I don't know why, but the idea just hit me. Kind of like the one-shot from before.

How was it? I tried really hard not over explain things, yet still explain enough for you to understand.

I really don't care if anybody reviews anymore. I figure, if I enjoy writing this, then it doesn't matter how many reviews or hits I get. So if you want to review, fine. If not, I really don't care since it's not up to me. It's up to you readers. Same with hits.

And flames… out of complete seriousness, please do not post any flames. It's just a waste of time, and either way, it will end up in the trash if you do. Plus, if you can't find anything positive about my story, that's something you can review about. Not insult me to my face, and expect me to care, because I won't and never will. And for all you reverse psychology people out there (you know who you are), I applaud you for not listening (hint hint), but either way I don't need psychiatric help.

Later


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